Snow Hair
by LoudAutomata16
Summary: In the Old Wild West, the bounty hunter Snow Hair is feared and revered. When a young woman named Luan approaches him about finding her sister, it kicks off an adventure that neither of them really expected.
1. Chapter 1

**A bit of context before starting the story; this story was essentially adopted from a story I wrote back in high school for a writing contest that I didn't win. Boo hoo and all that. Well, I found it recently and decided to rewrite it as a Loud House fic. This means that chunks of the plot were changed, but for the most part, it's just names that got switched around and dialogue that got rewritten.**

* * *

The tavern was loud and stunk of the rotten breath of alcoholics.

Luan had one mission in mind when she entered the sinful establishment: get in and get out without drawing too much attention. The only man she needed to talk to here was her contact. She tried to ignore the catcalls and jeers she got from the losers who believed it was okay to spend their sunny afternoons inside, sprawled over tables and sipping every last drop of beer they could get from their cups. "Hey baby! Wanna see my six shooter?" one cowboy screamed at her, tugging on his crotch. The others roared with laughter, while Luan simply scowled in disgust, and cursed herself for being so pretty.

She didn't like that thought. It was a vain and arrogant thing to think, but she couldn't deny there was truth to it. She had long, flowing brown hair that reached her waist on a good day, and somehow never lost its fresh smell. Her teeth were somewhat crooked, but it was barely noticeable on her womanly face, as men were more drawn to her long eyelashes and the adorable dimples that revealed themselves when she smiled. But then again, she hadn't smiled in a while. Not ever since she lost her sister…

Which brought her here.

She noticed one man who wasn't laughing with the others. A young man with orange hair and freckles on his cheeks, who simply glowered and brought his glass to his mouth, quenching his thirst with cool, clear water. Luan nodded at him, and he nodded back, inviting the girl to sit in front of him. Luan hiked up her dress - earning more catcalls in the process - before making her way over to him and sitting down. "G-Good afternoon," she stammered, before biting her finger in anger. She promised herself she wouldn't stammer.

"Afternoon, ma'am. I assume you're the lovely lady Luan."

"That ain't my legal name, but now I wish it was," she joked, drawing a small laugh from the young man. He extended his arm, and shook her smooth hand behind a dusty brown glove.

"Well, my legal, God-given name is Liam, and it's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine."

"Well, we do need to cling to pleasure in these dark times. Good Book promised disaster and depravity at the end of days, and all around me I see signs. Prostitutes running hither and thither, disease killing off cattle, and good Christian boys getting set upon by the savages."

"You mean the reds?" Luan asked.

"Some of them. But other savages are as lily white-skinned as you and me. Dark times, Luan, dark times, and we all have been suffering. That's why you're here, ain't it?"

"Yes. You know about what's happened recently to me and my home, I believe."

Liam nodded, and Luan continued her plea. "Well, I have no idea what to do, or who to turn to. I can't fight them on my own. So when I heard of Snow Hair, my heart leapt for a second. Surely if I can't defeat the villains who were set upon me and my sister, he can. The only problem is that he's been nowhere to be found for the last four odd months. But in my search, I was told about you..."

"Yeah, I know what you've been told. That I'm the only one in this great state that can find your hero bounty hunter Snow Hair."

"Yes. Please… tell me where I can find him. Time is of the essence."

Liam fell silent for a moment, flicking his crusty finger on the side of his glass mug. Luan waited patiently, her eyes wide and hopeful, and when Liam met them with his own gaze, he had to sigh. "Luan, do you know why they call this man Snow Hair?"

Luan shook her head. She had no idea about Snow Hair other than the fact that when he was hired, he got the job done, no matter what.

"Snow Hair was a name given to him by… well, pretty much everyone, on account of the white hair on his head. He's no albino, though. There's a legend that's spread through these parts that Snow Hair was a soldier of the Union in the war, and that he killed so many Confederates that his hair turned white from how often he saw the Grim Reaper. I doubt any part of that is true, but the point remains… Snow Hair is a dangerous man, and it wouldn't suit a lass like you to go near him," Liam concluded, nervously tapping on his glass of water.

"But I have to!" Luan cried, standing from her chair. "I need to find him! Please, Liam, I don't care how dangerous he is..."

"Will you sit down, woman?" Liam growled, his tone a bit on edge. Luan turned around to the other patrons, and noticed them all staring at her with suspicion. She giggled nervously as she met the cold and hardened eyes that glared at her, and sat back down, covering her face with her arm. "Sorry, Liam," she whispered.

"Alright, since you made a scene and I don't wanna look like an ass, I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you where you can find White Hair, but only one condition."

"Anything," Luan nodded.

Liam stared at her with a gravely look on his face, before it was immediately replaced with a sheepish grin. "Do you, uh, have twenty dollars? I'm kinda in trouble with the guys in the next booth over, 'cause of some teeny tiny gambling debt. So if you would be so kind..."

* * *

_Knock Knock_

A pair of blue eyes shot open as the sound of someone knocking on the door resonated through the house. A young man rose from his bed with the tired reluctance of a zombie rising from his grave - he even groaned and rubbed his eyes. They felt so puffy after a poor night's sleep, though in his case, it was less of a poor night's sleep and more of a poor afternoon's sleep. "Serves me for trying to get some shut-eye in the day," he mumbled to himself. The knocking on the door got even louder, and the young man let out a yipe and jumped out of bed, leaping behind a tall chair his father had left behind for him. "Wh-Who's there?" he called, trying to sound tough despite his pitiful stammer.

"Uh, I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but a boy named Liam led me here..."

"Ah, Liam. Say no more," he shouted to her. He stood up and dusted himself off, and reached for the dusty table besides his chair. There was a small pouch of money on it, next to a Bible and three bullets. The half-asleep boy grabbed the tiny bag of coins and stepped over to the door, opening it to reveal a tall, brown haired girl looking down at him. He looked into her eyes, and found himself instantly mesmerized; they were almost like the eyes of a fawn.

However, he shook off his momentary disorientation, and began dumping coins into the hand of the confused girl. "Tell Liam he owes me. For the fifth time, now," he said as he moved to close the door.

"What's this?" Luan asked, stepping forward. As the strange looking boy tried to close it, her foot wedged in the doorway kept him from doing so. He snarled slightly, and Luan jumped back, terrified of what Snow Hair would do to her if she got him mad. He was Snow Hair, right? He had the signature white hair, and he didn't seem albino, and this was the right place, but there was something about him that didn't seem like a legendary bounty hunter hero… starting with the fact that he looked younger than she was.

"It's money," he said matter-of-factly. "You are here because he sent you to tell me to pay off his idiot debt, right?"

"Oh, no. I'm… I'm not here for that."

The young man's face lit up. "Which means… can I have my money back?" he asked, before snatching the coin purse from her hands without waiting for her approval. At this point, Luan was definitely suspicious. She squinted menacingly at him as he stepped away from her, humming a light-hearted tune as he returned his coin purse to its previous place.

"Say, do you mind if I ask… who are you?"

"Me? Well, my name is… uh, I mean, my name is secret. Most folks call me the Snow Hair," he growled.

"_The _Snow Hair? I thought it was just 'Snow Hair'."

"Uh… I changed it. At the, um, office of name-changing. My legal name is now The S. Hair."

"Call me a skeptic and a cynic, but I don't think you're Snow Hair," Luan noted.

The young man opened his mouth to rebut, but after a few moments of silence, he instead sighed disappointedly and hunched over, his shameful head aimed towards the ground. "You're… you're right. I'm not Snow Hair. My dad, Lynn Sr., was. His hair started to whiten early because of the stress of the war between the North and the South, and then he became a bounty hunter to support me. He, uh, died a while ago, and I've been keeping up the image ever since."

"Oh… I'm so sorry."

"Nah, you ain't got to be sorry," he waved his hand and frowned dismissively. "I'm just curious what gave me away."

The moment he had opened the door for her, Luan's eyes immediately scanned the entire building, and while she didn't expect a bounty hunter to be living in a castle surrounded by parlor girls and exotic animals, she imagined that he would've at least kept his place neater. The ground was covered with shredded paper and cigar butts. The tables and chairs were filthy, stained with enough dirt and water to start an indoor flower garden. There was a stove, but it looked like it hadn't been used in a while. The door to the restroom was wide open, with swarms of bugs flying around it. Luan squinted, and realized that they weren't even flies. They were _wasps. _The place was so poorly maintained a hive of deadly insects built a nest there and the skinny, pale boy in front of her hadn't done anything about it.

Of course, then there was the boy himself. He had an unathletic build, and while he was easy on the eyes, he wasn't any kind of rugged manly man. His front tooth was chipped (likely in a fight he was trying to run away from) and his hair was incredibly disheveled.

"I had a few hints," Luan deadpanned.

"Well, I may not be my dad, but if Liam sent you over here to risk my dad's death getting exposed, it must be serious. If there's any way I can help, I'd love to know," he said earnestly, which made Luan smile lightly. At least he seemed to have a kind heart.

"It's a long story, so I'll need to recount it all quickly. Do you have a place we can sit?"

"What's wrong with these chairs?" the boy questioned as he pulled out one of the broken wooden chairs from under the table. Aside from the fact that the seat was covered in what Luan hoped to God wasn't (but probably was) urine, the chair had a wobbly leg that Luan knew for a fact would collapse under her if she sat, and would impale her behind.

"Nothing. I'm just allergic to wood," she lied politely. "Do you have any other chairs?"

"Eh, sit in the other chair. I'll stand," he offered. Luan accepted his offer with a nod, and allowed him to pull out the other, more darkly colored, chair for her like a gentleman. He walked over to the other side and placed his palms flat on the table, and leaned in for support. "So, Luan, what's a guy like me got to do to turn your frown upside down?"

"That used to be my job," Luan chuckled humorlessly. "I used to love telling jokes, but there's been no jokes from me ever since… well, I should explain first. You see, my family is incredibly poor. My ma ain't around, so my pa is the one that takes care of me and my little sister. Her name is Rose, but everyone calls her Giggles because of how easy it is to make her laugh. She always liked my jokes the best."

"Liked? Past tense?"

"A few days ago, my dear little sister… disappeared," Luan revealed in a shaky, warbled voice. "No, it's more like she was taken."

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

"It was night when it happened," Luan started her recount, shivering lightly. "The lanterns we left out on the porch were weaker than usual, on account of the bad winds we were having. I remember looking out the window and seeing one of the flames dance back and forth like a girl at the pub, and I just sat there wondering when it was going to go out. Suddenly, I heard a muffled scream, and my eyes darted to the right when I saw him; a strong young man had knocked my sister out cold, and before I could see his face he picked her up and dashed off with the strength and speed of a devil. I screamed loudly, and my pa rushed out with his gun, but the boy had got on his horse. My pa didn't want to risk hurting my sister, so he just collapsed and watched as the horse rode into the distance. I remember rushing down to him as he began to break down... bless his soul, he was never as strong as he liked to pretend.

"We spent the next few days searching and tracking the horse that had carried away Giggles, but the trail seemed to vanish, buried by wind and sand. The dogs they brought just started barking and sniffing randomly, running in confused little circles. Our last hope was a nearby tribe of Indians, but they told us to fuck off. And so I… I just didn't know..."

Luan felt her eyes stinging, and couldn't hold back her tears anymore. She sniffled before burying her face in her palms, and letting out a loud wailing cry. Her frame began to tremble as her volume got louder, leaving the white haired boy in an uncomfortable place. He stood back uncomfortably, not exactly sure what to do in this situation. "_Dang it, Pa. You taught me about firing off bullets and hunting wolves, but you couldn't tell me what to do for a crying lady?_" he growled quietly in annoyance.

Still, he tried to be kind. He reached over and started to stroke Luan's back, rubbing it in clockwise fashion. "I'm so sorry to hear about your sister, Luan. But I know she's still alive, if that's any console."

"I know she is too, which is why I came here. I was hoping to find the legendary Snow Hair, so he could track down that thief and save my little sis. And all I find instead is his sickly son, drowning in the rotten smell of an unclean home."

"Hey!" he protested. "I do spring cleaning."

Luan laughed lightly at that, wiping her eyes and nose with her hand. "It's almost the end of summer."

"Regardless, I'm just truly sorry about everything that's happened to you and your family, especially your little sister. You seem like a nice and lovely lady, and I'm honestly sorry for disappointing you. I couldn't be the white haired man you were looking for," he sighed. His head hung with shame, radiating a dark aura of disappointment into the room. "It's like Dad all over again. He never told me he was disappointed, but I could see it in his eyes..."

"Oh, don't say that. I'm sure you… actually, come to think of it, I think I have a solution to both our problems..."

His head rose so he could look at her. "Pray tell. What's your idea, Luan?"

"Simple. I need someone to get my sister back as soon as possible, before whoever that ruffian was does something truly bad to her. You clearly need to prove yourself, either to your father or to yourself. There's a trail that can't be easily traced, and only someone of Snow Hair's level could have followed it. You've been trained by your father to hunt… do you see where I'm going with this?" Luan asked. The boy shook his head, clearly not the brightest candlestick, and Luan groaned so lowly it could've been used as a whistle for animals. "I want to hire you to find my sister. I want to hire you instead of your father, so you can find her and show the world you ain't some skinny creep hiding away in a musty shack on the outskirts of town."

"You… you want to hire me?" he asked.

Luan nodded, offering him an encouraging smile.

"A-Absolutely not!" he yelled.

He could feel his skin break out with goosebumps, and his hairs were standing with fright. He ducked behind his chair cowardly, peeking out with a shaking, shuddering eye. "Are you crazy? There are bandits and snakes and coyotes and ghosts out there! I'm not budging. I'm sorry to hear about your sister, but if the sheriff and the militia can't do anything about it, I can't either."

"Oh, come on," Luan shouted back. "You're the son of the greatest bounty hunter on the Frontier. Hell, probably the whole New World. You can't be such a… such a… such a _scaredy cat!_"

"Call me whatever you want. But I'm not going out there. Bravery is what gets people killed on the Frontier. That's why all these guys die young. Like Billy the Kid. He died so young they gave him a nickname about it!"

At this point, Luan could not have felt worse. Her grand plan to recover her sister was crumbling before her eyes. Her only chance was to convince Snow Hair's son to help her, but as she watched the young teen looked at her with fear and worry in his eyes, she knew it would take a lot. "I'll… I'll pay double what I was planning to. Triple, even."

"Money's no use to me if I'm dead."

"You can move out of here. You can leave this dump and move in with the three of us."

"This is place is fine for me, thanks."

Luan groaned, knowing her last resort. Her eyes seemed to stare at him with an empty, dead look, and she grit her teeth as she grumbled "You know, my sister looks right about your age."

His eyes widened, and Luan knew she was unfortunately on the right track. _This damn kid…_

"Yep, she's a healthy teen girl, and she's ever-so interested in finding herself a man. Why, I'd imagine that a brave, handsome boy like you, busting in to the bad guy's lair and firing off some weapons to scare that brute that took her away… I'd imagine she'd be mighty thankful, if you know what I mean."

"Do… do you really think so?" he asked, rising up from behind the chair.

Luan nodded, and the boy grinned. He jumped into the air excitedly, and let out a vicious and proud war cry. "I'll do it. I'll save the girl and beat the bad guy. I don't care who it is. It could be the King of Europe himself, but I'd still stand my ground. Not, uh, because I'm interested in her, o-of course. I just want to do the right thing."

"Sure, whatever you say," Luan sighed. She really wished she were back at the bar, because she could use a drink.

But regardless, she did feel relieved that this boy was finally helping her. He may not have been much, but he seemed to be kind, and he was taught things by his father that she knew he could use to help her. She extended her gloved hand, and gave him a confident smile. "So do we have a deal, Mister, uh..."

"Lincoln," he said, grabbing her hand and shaking it. "My name is Lincoln. Though now, I suppose people can start calling me Snow Hair, since I'm taking up my dad's legacy. I'm… I'm honestly proud of myself," he beamed a smile so enthusiastic and warming that even Luan had to smile for him.

"Well, Lincoln, I hope we can find my sister together. The road will be tough, and it'll be hard, but I'm sure we can work together."

Lincoln nodded and his heart practically burst with glory and pride.

And for just the briefest of moments, he could've sworn he felt his father standing behind him, beaming down and putting a hand on his son's lean shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

"So where are we even going first?" asked Luan as she and Lincoln left his hut. Luan was glad to be out of there and back outside again. The stench of unwashed clothes and alcohol was replaced with the sweet, sweet smell of fresh air. The bugs were still the same, though, as Luan realized when she slapped a mosquito feasting on the side of her neck like a pesky little vampire.

"Normally, I'd ask you some questions, and we'd go for some clues," Lincoln stated, still with a goofy grin on his face, "but my Dad taught me a little shortcut when it came to solving cases. 'When coming up with a plan, first talk to the Indian.'"

"The Indian?"

"There's a red boy my Dad talked to before he set out on his missions. Old Pa always told me that he had some… well, let's just say he had some extraordinary powers not befitting Christianfolk like me or you. He could answer any question, control fire, move objects with his mind, order the wolves and ravens to do his bidding… my Dad even used to say he could even step through time."

"Rrrrrright… are you sure about this?" Luan asked, her tone suspicious and uncertain. Rightfully so, of course.

Lincoln shrugged as he walked up to a small stable, scooping a dirty leather saddle off the ground. He frowned at the cobwebs and sand that covered the seat, so he took a deep breath to blow it all off. Unfortunately, he inhaled some of the aforementioned sand and spider web, leading to him falling to the ground in a coughing fit. Luan fell to her knees by his side and scooped him up, smacking his back and rubbing his chest to help him breathe.

"Y-Yeah, I'm... s-sure" he managed to say in between coughs. "After all, if he was a fraud, my Dad of all people would've put two and two together."

That was true enough. The legendary Snow Hair was supposed to have the sharpest wit on the hemisphere, so if this Indian boy was just a snake oil salesman dabbling in phony spiritualist charades, the old man would've figured it out and left him with a bullet between the eyes. Still, Luan wanted to argue further, to protest that her sister didn't have enough time for them to waste on witch doctors, until she conceded that maybe the tribesman would have some solid information. The tribes did know more about what happened in the desert than she did. She only prayed that they saw her sister, and were willing to talk to the son of Snow Hair about it.

"Alright. So how are we going to get there?"

"Easy. We're going to take my Dad's horse."

"Y-Your pa's horse?" Luan repeated, her eyes widening to the size of saucers, and her smile widening with them. "The legendary Smoking Cloud?"

"Yep," Lincoln nodded with a pleasant smile on his face.

Luan couldn't help herself. She balled up her fists and _squeed _excitedly. The tale of Smoking Cloud was a story told almost as often as the tale of the one who rode him. He was an elegant and large horse with black fur that was darker than crow flying in the night's sky, and an intense gaze that pierced the souls of whatever misfortunate varmint Snow Hair was hunting. The anticipation was killing her as Lincoln's hand wrapped around the handle of the door that closed off the stables.

With a loud creaking sound, the doors opened in front of them, revealing a dimly lit and musty inside. Piles of yellow hay were scattered on the ground, along with a few half-eaten apples. Luan's eyes squinted, scanning the interior for the mythical horse. He shouldn't have been that hard to find; he was supposed to be taller than a barn!

Lincoln whistled and snapped his fingers. "Smokey, come on out. I have a nice, juicy carrot for you."

A deep and menacing exhale echoed through the structure, followed by the sounds of a horse getting to its feet. The light was too dark for Luan to see the black horse, but she gasped as she saw a pair of eyes strike through the shadows, getting closer and closer…

"Oh my God, is it really..."

The horse stepped into the light where she could see... and Luan was severely disappointed for the second time that day.

Gone was the famous Stygian coat and mane, replaced by a dusky gray color. And that was only in the places where there _was_ hair. Several spots on the horse's body revealed exposed skin, bleeding from the nasty bites of bugs. And now that she got a second look at the animal's eyes, they weren't really as sharp and terror-inspiring as she expected. They were milky white, as if Smoking Cloud were going blind, but not quite there yet. Its posture was terrible, there was a thick and slimy glob of drool coming out of its mouth, and the image wasn't helped when Lincoln cuddled the horse's face and started whispering "Ooh, who's a good boy? Sorry I don't really have a carrot, but at least you can spend time with me now."

Luan really had to take a moment to process what she was seeing: A younger, weaker version of Snow Hair cooing to an older, weaker version of Smoking Cloud.

At this point, she would be surprised if the Indian boy _was_ actually an Indian boy, and not just some runaway whore with enough rogue on her face to pass for a Native.

"Alright," Lincoln said as he slapped the saddle on the horse, "we can just ride on ole Smokey here."

"What? Lincoln, are you crazy? That horse can't carry both of us. I don't even think it can carry that saddle!"

Lincoln looked his stead over a second time, and noticed the buckling knees and tittering hooves. His head titled back at her, his features twisted with confusion, before he glanced back to the wheezing horse. He grit his teeth uncomfortably as he reached to pat the animal's head, but it backed away from his touch with a weak, wearisome neigh.

"Oh… oh, yeah… sometimes I forget you aren't what you used to be Smokey."

He took the saddle off, and patted his horse, kissing the area around his eye. "I'm sorry. I just… I wanted to ride on you like before, Smokey. I know from experience you used to be able to carry two people, but… I guess age catches up with all of us."

The gray horse whinnied softly, and Lincoln gave his pet a soft smile. "I'll be back later, okay? Don't know when, but when I do, I'll drop by just to talk to you, okay?"

Smoking Cloud licked him, and Lincoln chuckled. Even Luan had to smile at the scene.

"Well then, Luan, I hope you packed your walking shoes - if girls even have those - 'cause we're going walking!"

"What do you mean 'if girls have those?'"

Lincoln didn't notice how her eye twitched.

"Well, I just mean that it's us menfolk who do all the physical stuff while you girls sit around all day… um… menstruating?"

Luan blinked. "You think girls spend the time by sitting around and _menstruating_?"

"Or talking about it, I guess."

There was a pause of silence. Even the horse didn't make any noises as Luan stared at the white haired boy with a look of both shock and bewilderment. She took a deep breath, pressing her hands together like she was praying to the Almighty to keep her from punching out the bounty hunter she now realized was a mistake to hire, and then exhaled calmly.

"Lincoln," she started slowly. "I want you to start walking to the Indian's camp. I'll follow you. I promise I will. But if you try to talk to me before we get there… I'm going to kill you, then myself."

"N-Noted," he giggled nervously, tugging on his dirty collar. He took a few awkward steps in her direction, as if testing the grounds, before scampering off ahead of her with brisk pace. Lincoln looked back to make sure she was following, and when he saw that she was, he slowed his pace and began walking into the desert.

_Maybe the Indians can give me a magical talisman that'll keep her from shooting me when this is all over._

* * *

Day turned to dusk, dusk turned to night, night turned to dawn, dawn turned to day. And Lincoln and Luan trudged on.

In absolute silence.

Despite Luan's insistence that they be at least five feet apart while walking, she did join him by the fireside when night fell upon them. She may have been deeply annoyed, but she wasn't about to expose herself to the harsh elements and the harsher animals of the Frontier. Still, not a word was passed between them as they sat around the campfire. Lincoln fiddled awkwardly with his gun while Luan stared up at the moon, only one thought on her mind;

_Hang tight, sis. I'm coming for you._

The travel itself was as miserable as it was boring. The sun beat down on them with relentless anger. Their feet hurt from all the walking, which wasn't helped by the fact that they took as few breaks as possible. They knew that a human life - a family member's life - depended on them getting to their destination as soon as possible, so neither stopped unless the pain in their bleeding soles became unbearable. To add to that, they were both incredibly nervous about the wildlife around them. As they figured, it would've even need to take something as ferocious as a wolf or a puma to kill them. Step one foot on a snake and it'll be the last time you ever get to use that foot.

But when she wasn't thinking about the carnivorous killing machines that wanted nothing more than to tear her into tender shreds, Luan took a bit of time to reflect on how she was dealing with the boy she was following. Their relationship had gotten off to… a troubled start, to say the least. For example, the trailing-and-no-talking thing they had going on right now. But the more Luan cooled off (as much as she could in the hot Sun) the more she came to realize that she was being completely irrational.

"I don't think I'm being fair to him," she said under her breath. "I don't even think I'm angry with him. I'm just… disappointed."

_It's fair to be disappointed, though. You were expecting a bounty hunting hero with a silver gun and a fiend of a horse. Instead you got his pasty son and an aged horse that couldn't carry a cat to its litter box. _

"Right, but it's not fair to take it out on him. It's not his fault he can't live up to his father."

_I don't think it's about him living up to his father. I think it's that _you_ want him to live up to _your_ image of his father._

She frowned guiltily.

_I get it. There were all these stories and tall tales about Snow Hair. Like how he shot five men with a single bullet passing through all their lined-up heads. How he spent days hanging with a rope around his neck and still lived strong and hard. How he met a giant down in Alabama…_

"Okay, I didn't believe _that _one_."_

_The point is that you done constructed some make-believe magic man in your mind and you're holding Lincoln up to that. That's not fair to him, nor is it any fair to his daddy._

She stopped in her tracks, the soles of her footwear pressing into a soft rock and breaking it into a cloud of dust under her weight. Out of the corner of his eye, Lincoln noticed, and turned to check on her. "You alright back there?" he asked, before immediately hissing and smacking his forehead. "Sorry, sorry, I know I ain't supposed to talk. Forget I said nothing."

"No, it's fine, Lincoln. Come over here for a moment."

"Are you going to take my gun and blow my brains out on the rocks because I snored too loud last night?" asked Lincoln timidly.

"Don't tempt me," she smiled.

He approached her, but he kept his twitchy eye on her hand just in case.

Luan took a deep heave of a sigh, her chest puffing out and deflating as she said "I just want to tell you that I'm sorry for being all snappy with you," in an apologetic tone. "At the end of the day, you're doing me a favor. You ain't obligated to help me find my sister, but you're doing it anyways, so… thanks."

The boy looked deep into her eyes, as if scanning them for any hint of insincerity. But there was none. She was truly sorry, but she wasn't saying everything.

"I wish I wasn't the way I am," he said. "I don't know what you think of me or how you think I think… or maybe you do, but I just want to say that I really always wanted to be more like my Dad. I guess every kid looks up to their Dad, but mine was so much more than that. He was a hero, a legend… a man so shrouded in mystery and action no one even knew him that well. Except his family, of course. Me. And because I knew him so well… I knew I could never even get close to how great he was."

His shoulders slumped and his head titled downwards, and his eyes wandered towards the gun strapped to his belt. How dare he even carry that weapon? He wasn't man enough for it. The only thing he was man enough for was carrying a knife. Not a killing knife, not a hunting knife… one of those knives meant sewing dresses up.

That is how sewing works, right?

"I don't know," he continued. "When I first decided to start helping you, I felt proud of myself. But then, in just the first day, I disappointed and annoyed you so much tha-"

"That's not you fault. It's mine," Luan sighed, in a shocking display of a woman admitting she was wrong. "I'm just worried about my sister, and maybe I shouldn't get all feisty with you for trying to help."

She extended her hand. "Sorry for being a bitch."

He smiled and took her hand. "Sorry for being a wimp."

They shook hands, and laughed lightly. "Well, the good news is that we're getting close to the camp. We can just walk the rest of the way there in an hour or two. And that'll give us a lot of time to _talk about our feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelings,_" Lincoln teased.

"Not a chance in tarnation."

"Fine. Wanna talk about politics?"

"No."

"I'm serious, it's important! Our president colluded with America's greatest enemy of all time… Canada!"

That was the quality of conversation for the rest of the road. Luan tolerated the young man's rapid conspiracy theorizing and incorrect observations about the world, though she did so with a smile.

At least Lincoln seemed happy now.

* * *

A small hill was all that stood between Luan, Lincoln, and the spiritual shaman they sought. But the closer they got to the hill, the more Luan noticed Lincoln… well, she couldn't really describe it. There was something off about him. He seemed to get more serious, his face reduced to a gravelly neutral expression as he stepped on the sands at the foot of the hill. The higher they climber and the closer they got, the more his hairs seemed to bristle and his breaths seemed to hang. He was visibly uncomfortable.

"Are you alright, Lincoln?"

"What?" he said as he spun around and looked at her like he'd never seen her before. Then he blinked, and a little clarity returned to him. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just feels like there's something in the air."

"Something?"

"Something dark."

Luan gulped nervously. She wasn't an expert on any sorta mystical matters, but as far as she knew, there were only two kinds of spirit stuff that existed. And when it came to the Indians… well, they weren't exactly dabbling in Christ's side of the immaterial world.

"Do you think it's… the Indian that's doing it?"

Lincoln shook his head. "Naw. I know him, and I know he doesn't work black magic. Hell, he's lectured me before about how the tribes don't worship demons like some whites believe they do. There's… something else."

Then he stopped in his tracks and knelt down to touch a soft patch of vegetation. The smooth feeling of the grass' blades on his fingers calmed him a little.

"Or maybe I'm just imaging things. You never know," he shrugged nonchalantly.

But when they reached the top of the hill and looked down at where his father's friend resided, Lincoln's eyes widened in horror.

When he saw the man's hut burnt to the side, his things broken and spilled over the floor, Lincoln screamed "Bobby!" and rushed down the hill as swiftly as he could. He tripped, falling face-first into the dirt, but quickly got up and started rushing towards the hut, Luan following.

He bust inside what remained of the tepee, and found not the smiling face of the mystic as he smoked from his pipe…

Instead, he found a murder scene.

Blood was sprayed on the walls - dried and a sickening shade of reddish brown. The garbs, tools and food of the man was scattered on the ground in an act of brazen vandalism. But what made Lincoln choke on his own breaths was the sight of a tall, thin, dark-skinned man lying face-first on the ground…

A gaping bullet hole in the back of his head.

"No, Bobby, no," he said as he slid on his knees to the dead man's side, lifting his head. His eyes were half-lidded and glossed over, and a thin trail of blood and mucus slid down from his mouth to his pointed chin. Lincoln's mouth quivered, his teeth chattering as he whispered, "_B-Bobby..._"

No response. Bobby was dead.

Tears stung at Lincoln's eyes as he carefully placed the head back on the ground. A shudder ran through his entire body, and Luan quickly got down by his side to hug him, to cradle him. She could feel the boy shaking in her arms, and she seized him more tightly.

"Lincoln, I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Who did this? Who fucking did this?!" he screamed, overcome with emotion.

Imagine his shock when he heard a voice behind him say, "That, little boy, would be me."

The two looked up in shock, and found another young man standing in front of the entrance. His gun was aimed at Lincoln's head, a sick and twisted grin on his cut lips. He had brown hair, disorderly and manic, and a frenzied look in his eyes to match. His tongue lashed out, like dancing red fire, and he licked the muddy side of his face. "I knew you'd come around here one of these days to ask the featherhead for help. Like father, like son. Right, Stinkoln?"

"Lincoln… who is this guy?"

Lincoln seemed breathless, gripped by fear. His entire body quaked at the sight of the teen holding a weapon aimed between his eyes. He didn't want to say anything, for fear that his words could cause the weapon to discharge, but the young man nodded. "Go on, tell her," he sneered.

"Luan… remember when I called my father 'Lynn Sr.'?"

She nodded slowly, realization hitting her.

"M-Meet my older brother... Lynn Jr."


	3. Chapter 3

The young man holding the gun - whose name was evidently Lynn - gave Luan and Lincoln the nastiest grin he could muster. "Well, this has been a sweet family reunion, but I got things to do, so..." he trailed off as he shook his gun. He pointed it at Luan, who stood bravely, then pointed it at Lincoln, who trembled. A troubled look seem to curl on Lynn's face as he alternated his aim between the two. "Tarnation, I can't decide which one of you I want to shoot first."

"You could always, you know, um… not shoot us," Lincoln suggested.

His brother scratched his chin with his gun, and Luan hoped he would pull the trigger by accident. Alas, no such luck, as he put the gun back to her head.

"You know, you look mighty familiar," said Lynn.

Luan blinked. Now that he mentioned it, Lynn did look a little familiar too. About five seconds later, her eyes shone with recognition. "You!" she exclaimed angrily. "You're the one that stole my sister away!"

Lynn threw his head back with crazed laughter. "Oh my Star Spangled Banner! It is you! Shit, do you want to see your sister right now? She's with us here. I brought her with me. It's a right old-fashioned family reunion for all of us. Praise the _Lawd_!"

Then he shoved her, and then shoved his brother. Lynn's face started to crackle with seriousness. "Alright, but for real… move it."

"Weren't you going to shoot us?" Lincoln asked.

"Not anymore. Got a new change of plans. You two are going to help me with something special~"

"We'd never help you with anything," spat Luan.

"That's funny. I don't remember giving you a choice in it."

Lincoln gave one last look at the corpse of the shaman on the ground. The splatter of blood around the face made him sick, even more so than the overall sight of it. This is was his Dad's friend. _His_ friend. If maybe Lincoln had arrived a little earlier, they might've been able to save him. But he couldn't, and now the body would lay here without a proper burial, for the crows and maggots to pick at.

_Bobby deserved better than that, _Lincoln thought. A strange feeling arose in his breast. It was fiery, brave and impatient.

It felt like… anger.

When Lynn forced the two of them outside, Luan noticed that he had brought guests. There was, of course, Lynn's horse. However this wasn't the same horse that Lynn had rode when he kidnapped her sister. That horse was dark, while this one had a lighter brown color to it, almost golden in the right light. Luan wondered what happened to the old horse, until she looked into the new horse's eyes. They were more fearful than any animal's eyes she had ever seen.

It suddenly became more clear what Lynn had done with his old horse.

Her eyes moved to the other one of God's creations that he had dragged along, and her eyes widened. Just as the twisted criminal had promised, there was her sister, Giggles. Her skin was red from exposure to the Sun, and her arms were bound by rope to the horse. The knots were clearly tight, as blood dripped from her forearms. When Luan's eyes met with her younger sister's, a weak smile touched Giggles' face. "_L-Luan_," she croaked with her parched throat.

"What did you do to my sister?!" Luan roared, spinning around to face her captor. Lynn shoved his gun right between her eyes, and whispered in a terrifying voice;

"_Nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you if you don't turn around and shut the fuck up._"

"I'm not scared to die. I'll fight you right here."

"Oh? And what about him?" asked Lynn, pointing his gun at Lincoln's temple. "Are you really selfish enough to put someone else at risk just so you can make some empty last stand?"

Luan grit her teeth, clenched her fists… and then turned around.

What happened next was a blur for everyone but Lynn. Luan was too drunk on her own rage, Giggles was too exhausted by the rough travel, and Lincoln was too deep in his own mind to react to the outside world. He barely flinched when Lynn used him to threaten Luan, and Luan could only assume he was going through some inner turmoil. Whether dealing with sorrow or fear or something else, she didn't know.

But the point is what happened to all of them, not just him. Lynn gleefully sat them all down by a long wooden pole that Bobby kept besides his lonely home, and kept his gun trained on Lincoln's skull. He backed away, still facing them, as he grabbed for rope and tied them all to the pole. To add insult to injury, Luan could feel Lynn rub his hand over her breast as he took his time tying her down.

"It's a shame our time together has to be so short, and so full of enmity," he said in a mock-mournful voice. "In other circumstances, perhaps we could've shared a cot together, and I would've done things to you that you couldn't even dream of."

Luan spit in his face. He just grinned.

"Thanks. I was getting thirsty."

"Is there anything I can say that'll convince you to let us go?"

Lynn thought about that for a moment. "Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe. If you can tell me where I can find the leprechaun's gold, or where the jackalopes all hang out to play poker on Tuesdays, then I'll send you all on your merry way," he said. He knelt down until his forehead touched her hair. "But you can't tell me any of that, can you?" he whispered. His breath was metallic.

Luan scowled, and Lynn stood up. "Well then, I guess all that's left for you to do is comfort each other and pray to the Christian God while you still can. Because in a little while, you're going to be in the presence of another god."

"A-Another god?"

Lynn nodded, but then yawned. He rubbed his swollen eyelids, before yawning again. He hadn't noticed how tired he was. Licking his lips, he looked up into the sky at the white sun hanging above their heads. "Well, the fire is going to be prettiest at nightfall," he said to himself, before looking at Luan, Lincoln, Giggles and the hemp rope that bound them all to the pole. He figured they weren't going anywhere, so he began walking into the Indian's home.

"Where the heck are you going?" called Luan.

"Getting some shut-eye," said Lynn lazily. "Wake me up when the sky gets all purple-like."

Luan immediately looked to her sister once he was gone. She wanted to hug her, or at least touch her face, but her bindings kept her from doing that. Still, she could talk, and that was all she needed. "I'm so glad I found you, Giggles," Luan told her, her voice immediately switching from the angry tone she used with Lynn to a softer, more sisterly tone. "I was so scared. Me and Pa both thought… well, we didn't know what he might do to you..."

"At least you found me," Giggles offered a weak smile.

"But look at you. You're all burnt and hungry."

"Once he got away, he jumped down from the horse and tied my hands and made me walk behind it," Giggles said, her face turning downwards. "Sometimes, when I wasn't walking fast enough, he would whip the horse into a run, and I would stumble and fall and scrape my face on the rocks. He almost never gave me a break, and the food he gave me was horrible. I… I'll be honest, Luan, sometimes when we were out there, I saw the Reaper standing, offering me his hand. And… and sometimes I wanted to go with him..."

She was crying now, though she had so little water in her body that she could only produce two tears. Luan felt like crying too, but she tried to be brave for her little sister. "Oh, Giggles," she said softly, kissing the younger girl's cheek. The wetness of her mouth felt like a blissful relief on her sun-burnt, scratched face.

"I think I'll be fine now, Luan. Now that you're here," she managed to say. Then her head titled to look at the boy sitting besides her older sister. "You and… him."

"I forgot I didn't introduce you. Sorry," Luan giggled. "This is Lincoln. He's a bounty hunter, and, get this, he's the son of Snow Hair."

Giggles' eyes widened. "_The_ Snow Hair?"

"The very same," Luan nodded, pleased that the mention of the legendary hero stopped her sister's crying and excited her imagination. "'Course, Lincoln here is a bit of a… well, his heart's in the right place. And though he may not seem like it, he's brave. He just needs to… I don't know, believe in himself."

She said that hoping that wherever Lincoln was, he could hear her.

"Is he going to save us like Snow Hair would? Does he have some cool hidden knives or something?" Giggles asked.

"Maybe. Hopefully," was all Luan could answer.

Truthfully, Luan had little hope. Even if Lincoln woke up from his shell shock coma and manned up, it wouldn't matter. They were bound by ropes, and Lynn had a gun. And judging from who his father was, he knew how to use it. Luan couldn't rely on Lincoln. She couldn't rely on Giggles. She couldn't even rely on herself. There was only one she hoped she could rely on.

Her mouth began to form silent words as her eyes looked to God.

* * *

**When I first wrote this story back then, I hated writing the villain character (who was named, ironically, Lincoln) the most. Now he's easily my favorite. **


	4. Chapter 4

Scarlet colored the sky at twilight. Normally, having such a beautiful sight would be a comfort to Luan, but now it just left her stomach knotted and her heartbeat racing. She knew that in a matter of moments, Lynn would be awake, and he would be ready for… whatever he was planning. He said they would be in the presence of another god, but based on what she'd seen of him, he was likely referring to himself. At least, she hoped so. The frontier was a mysterious place. One can never really know…

Lincoln was still useless. He was practically dead alive. A glassy, vacant look filled his eyes while his body was irresponsible to any external stimuli. A lizard had come by earlier and crawled up his sleeve and planted itself right on his face, and it only left when Luan shooed it away.

And Giggles… Giggles was probably as nervous as she was.

Luan heard a lurching grunt, and turned her head to see Lynn stumble onto the scene. His revolver was in his hand, pointed at an angle that left it dangling dangerous above his leg while he rubbed his eyes. "That was a good nap," he muttered. He coughed and spat into the sand, then returned his weary gaze to the three people he had tied up.

And that's when his nasty grin returned, and his eyes lit up again. No coffee was required when you had pure insanity on your side, it seemed.

"Well lookey lookey at these cookies," he mocked, bobbing his head side to side and he walked over to them. Luan didn't know what she was frightened of more; that he would go to touch Giggles, or that he would want to touch her.

He didn't touch either of them. He was narrowing in on his brother. He tugged on the young man's white hair and brought him to his eye level. Lincoln would've been screaming in pain if he weren't dazed out. Lynn slapped him, trying to get a response, and Luan barked, "Leave him alone!"

"Shut up. This is between me and Stinkoln."

He hit him again, this time balling a fist and punching his brother in his stomach. He dug his angry knuckles best he could, but Lincoln still didn't flinch. "Is he dead or something?" Lynn asked Luan.

"I hope not."

"Hope is worthless on the frontier. Only hard, cold facts cut it," Lynn told her. "And here's a fact: you three are going to die."

Giggles wailed, and Luan grit her teeth. "No we're not. Lincoln is going to come back and then he'll… he'll..."

"He'll piss himself, that's what. He'd probably curl up in a ball, so that he can piss in his mouth."

Lynn was getting bored now. He let go of his brother's head, throwing him back against the pole. He wiped his hand on his shirt, as if it were dirtied by the touch of cowardice. He aimed his gun right at Lincoln's scalp, and fake-shot his brother. "Pow," he said. Then he chuckled. "Well, no point in delaying anymore, ladies. It's showtime."

"What… what are you going to do to us?" Giggles asked fearfully. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, and Luan wished more than anything that she could hug her and comfort her until the tears went away.

"I just said that you three are gonna die. Ain't you listening to me?" Lynn asked. He then shrugged his wide shoulders. "Anyways, if you're worried I'm just gonna shoot y'all in the head like the Injun over there and call it a night… well, that would be funny, but that would defeat my purpose. You see-"

It sounded like he was about to go on a long explanation, but then he stopped himself. A stupid look washed across his face as he thought about it, and then he shrugged again. "Actually, I suppose it's best if I show you. You girls like fireworks? This'll be like that, but better."

He gathered up a pile of dead wood. There was already a large pile of firewood near the pole, but he dumped more on top, with an excitable look on his features. Luan got a good look from her vantage point, and her eyes widened. If he was planning on building a fire, then it would be huge.

When Lynn was done, he sighed and looked up at the sky. He held up his fingers, and counted down as the red and purple colors faded, and in their place, hundreds of millions of bright stars appeared in the sky. "Alright, this'll be nice and romantic," he said to himself, before turning back to his victims.

"Watch carefully," he told them. Luan noticed that all the mania and youthful craze had gone from his voice.

He reached into one of his jacket's pockets, and pulled out a small box. It was dark and felty, like the box a modern man would hold his wedding ring in. He made sure they could see it, then smiled as he opened it up.

Inside, Luan and Giggles saw, was fire.

But this wasn't an ordinary fire. No, it was different. An ordinary fire would've set the box - and the man holding the box - ablaze in a show of red and yellow and orange. But this fire was more calm and gentle. It simply swayed from side to side, like a dancer tossing her head. The color was different too, for every second it changed. One second it was a stark violet purple. Another second it was a bright gold. The next it was blacker than coal. And then it was as greenish blue as the ocean.

There was also something else that was bothering Luan about it, but she couldn't really tell what it was.

"Long ago," started Lynn, "the peoples of the Old World found fire. Fire was their savior. It repelled monsters and animals in the night. It gave warmth while they slept. It cooked their food, making meat digestible. It was a tool, given to them by the Gods themselves. So it's no wonder that, in order to thank the Gods for the gift of fire, the people of the Indopersian lands began to toss sacrifices into the flames. And not animal sacrifices. No, no, no. I'm talking _human_ sacrifice."

Giggles let out a horrified choke, and Lynn's nostrils flared. He reached down for a twig and placed it gently by the box. Luan watched as the fire began to eat at the tiny piece of wood, and then he tossed it into the pile.

_VOOM! _

In a mere instant, there was tower of fire behind Lynn. He cast a might shadow over the three, and hints of his old grin returned.

"Of course, this practice died down. The new faiths showed up. You know, the ones started by some runaway Indian prince, some Jewish carpenter, some Arabian shepherd… they all refused human sacrifices. And even before them, there were people of the Old Religion that were telling their people that enough was enough. That this wasn't the way. That it was time for reform."

_Lincoln, please, _begged Luan silently, her eyes on the rambling man's brother, _come back to us. I know you can beat Lynn. You're strong. You just have to trust yourself._

Lynn continued his twisted sermon. "So the fire didn't receive anymore people. It began to die down, be forgotten. The temples where it was housed fell, and perhaps that's how it got into the hand of the gypsies. These gypsies passed it down, until finally… they gave it to me. No… the fire _chose _me. You see, I," he placed a hand on his chest, "am willing to feed it. Already have before. The fire gives me something in exchange. For every soul I plug in, well..."

Lynn aimed his gun at his temple, and without a moment of hesitation pulled the trigger.

_BANG!_

Both girls screamed as particles of blood and brain splattered across the ground. But just as soon as he fell, the blood of the young man returned to him, and his brains crawled back to the open cavity in his head. It closed itself up, and Lynn got off the ground with a cheery smile, alive and well.

"For every soul I feed the fire, I got another lifetime. Like a cat, but sexier." He grinned leeringly at Giggles and Luan.

"H-H-H-How… are you… still alive?" Luan whispered in horror. "You just shot yourself. H-How are you… how?"

"I'm alive because there's magic in the world!" he shouted with a twisted laugh. "There's old magic, older than you or I or even all of mankind. Magic that was here before Adam got tossed out of the Garden, and magic that'll still be here when the last man beats his own skull in with a rock! IT'S MAGIC, BABY!"

_This can't be real, _Luan thought, rocking herself. She was ashamed to hear a whimper escape from her. _I'm dreaming. I'm hallucinating. I breathed too much of that smoke coming from the fire. This is… this is…_

In novels, when a character discovers a secret world of magic and monsters, there's an odd idea amongst writers that the only thing said character would feel is amusement and wonder. This would likely not be true in real life. The existence of such things, and the horrific scenarios in which these things are introduced, would leave people in a such of disbelief and existential dread as they realize everything they had known before was a lie.

_That_ was what Luan felt. Not wonder.

"Alright, I'm bored of talking. Plus I just wasted one of my lives to impress you ladies. But I don't have to worry about that much," he said, his evil grin curling, "because I'm about to have me three new lives to join the rest."

_Join the rest?_

And that's when Luan realized what was bothering her about the fire. She looked more closely at it, and she hitched a frightened breath. Behind the haze and the bright colors, she could see… faces. People's faces, screaming in agony, flickering in and out of existence. When Lynn said he was going to give them to the fire… he meant it.

It would be like Hell. The only difference would be that the good can be tossed in there as well.

"So… who's it going to be?" Lynn knelt below Luan with a smirk. "I'll let you decide who dies first."

"S-Screw you." Luan tried to be brave. But Lynn's mocking glower told her it wouldn't enough.

"_Tsk tsk tsk_. I was gonna let you be a little hero and let you offer yourself, but… now you gotta choose between your shithead sister, and my shithead brother."

"Luan..." said Giggles.

Luan didn't want to pick. She didn't want to lose either of them.

But her eyes betrayed her, and they rolled to look at Lincoln.

Lynn followed them, a wide and eager smile on his face. "Ah! Lincoln, son of Snow Hair. Excellent choice."

He untied Lincoln, keeping his gun aimed at Giggles lest Luan try to interfere. Lincoln was still not moving, and his brother grunted "Come on now," like he was handling a cow rather than his own flesh and blood. He began to drag Lincoln, the boy's freckled face getting scraped by rocks, and Luan knew she had to act fast to save him. But how? She was bound. She struggled against her ropes, but Lynn had tied them too tight.

With no other option, she did the only thing she could've.

"LINCOLN!" Luan screamed. "WAKE UP!"

* * *

Lincoln felt like he was floating.

Then he fell to the ground and slammed his face into it. "Ow, my fucking face," he said, rubbing his head. He hissed with pain, then opened his eyes to look around.

There was nothing. It was a void world of pure white.

He turned his head from side to side, calling out "Hello?" with hands cupped around his mouth. He began to walk, though on what surface he didn't know. "Hello?" he called out again. "Luan? Giggles? L-Lynn, even?"

No response.

"Dang it," he said, snapping his fingers.

He kept on walking, hoping to see some sign of… something. He wasn't asking for something huge like a big ole red barn or something. He just wanted some sign that he wasn't alone with the color white. He scanned above him for the colors of the sky. He scanned below him for footprints or hoof-prints. He scanned at his level for just something that wasn't the damn color white.

Then he saw it. A man sitting with his back to him. Lincoln couldn't tell, but it looked like the man was drinking something. "Hey! Hey, you there!" Lincoln cried excitedly, not even considering that this person might've been dangerous. He began to run over, pumping his legs more in those few seconds than he had for the entire year. "Hey you!"

The closer he got to the man, the more he could see his clothes. The man wore a dark leather jacket, and a pair of dirty boots that dug into the 'ground'. He wore a large tipped hat on his head, same color as the jacket, and Lincoln could see that the hair underneath was the same color as his surroundings.

White. It's always white.

He finally reached the older gentleman, and placed his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "Hey, didn't you hear me. I was calling for you and everything."

"Oh I heard you," said the man. "I was just waiting for you to catch up, boy."

Lincoln raised an eyebrow. "That… that sounds like something my Dad said to me once. Come to think of it, you sound a lot like my Dad."

"Do I?" the old man chuckled.

And it was then that Lincoln noticed that the man had a pair of guns strapped to his body. Two pistols, with Indian markings all over them. Just like… just like his father had…

The man turned his head, and he grinned.

"Hello, son," said Lynn Sr. with a kindly smile. "How have you been doing? Keeping yourself out of trouble I hope?"

Lincoln was stunned for a moment, but he got over it quickly. "Yep. I've been… doing the same, I guess." Then he frowned, and said, "You know, I thought seeing my dead father would leave me a bit more shaken. Since I ain't, I guess this is a dream."

"All inside your head," Lynn Sr. confirmed.

"Cool. That means I can make whatever I want happen, right? Hold on."

Lincoln pressed his fingers to his head, and bit down on his lip, concentrating really hard… and suddenly, a naked woman with blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes was in front of him.

"For Pete's sake, boy, your father is right here," growled Lynn Sr.

"Oh right. Whoops," said Lincoln, blushing. He dismissed the blonde, but not before slipping her his telegraph.

"Sit down, we don't have too much time," Lynn Sr. ordered. When his son sat down, the bounty hunting hero rubbed his eyes and offered him a drink. Lincoln refused, and Lynn Sr. smiled a knowing smile. "Didn't think you of all people would refuse a drink, seeing how much beer and crap you've been chugging."

"You know about that?"

"I'm in your head, boy. I know everything."

"Everything? So you know about… Lynn?"

His father exhaled heavily through his nose, as though the name alone brought up feelings of shame and disappointment. Probably because it did. "He's my son, of course, and I was always so proud of him. He could shoot, he could ride… I thought he would be my perfect successor. That's why I passed my name down to him. But judging from everything I've seen, he's taken all his potential and pissed it all away on black magic. He's… he's hurting people, Lincoln."

"He killed Bobby," said Lincoln. "Shot him."

"I know," Lynn Sr. said in a pained voice, before it gruffened. "Which is why you need to get back out there and beat him, son. Beat him like I should've when he was a little shit."

"I-I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

Lincoln sighed. "Because… because Lynn's better than me. He always has been. He's better with a gun, he's better with the horses, he's better with g-girls… and I always felt like you liked him better than me. I can't beat him. I can't avenge Bobby. I can't save Luan and her sister. Because I suck."

"Lincoln… come here," his father said softly, opening his arms, ready to hug his son. Lincoln crawled over… and Lynn Sr. punched him as hard as he could on his cheek.

And despite being an old man, he packed a mean wallop.

Lincoln fell against the ground, eyes welling. "Ow!" he whined. "What the hell was that for?"

"Lincoln, for Pete's sake, did you ever think I loved him more than I did you?" Lynn Sr. growled. "When did I say that? Never, that's when. I'm proud of you, boy, despite how little you've done to make me so. I see so much potential in you, and even if I didn't, I'd still love the heck out of you."

"Um… thanks, I guess," said Lincoln, still nursing his sore cheek. "That doesn't help me face Lynn, though."

"Here's the thing, Lincoln," started the old man, "you're not as good of a shot as he is, true. You're not a good rider, true. You can't run as fast, you can't swim as well, and you can be a dainty little bitch sometimes. But there is one thing you've got that Lynn ain't never gonna get."

"What?"

Lynn Sr. tapped his skull. "You got smarts. Lynn's dumber than donkey shit and as crazed as a monkey sucking vapor at the brewery. But you got smarts and wiles. You can't beat him in a fistfight, but you don't have to. You can trick him, like Coyote in those Indian stories."

"Trick him? No, I can't do that. He'll kill me. I… I don't want to..."

"Lincoln… think of Bobby," Lynn Sr. said. Lincoln thought about him, as his chest filled with anger and hate. He felt puffed up by bravery, but it was quickly deflated as he remembered Lynn's skill with his pistol.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I really can't," he said, hanging his head in shame.

"You better," the old man said. "She's a-calling for you."

"Who?"

Then he heard her voice.

"_LINCOLN! WAKE UP!"_

"Sounds like she needs you. Sounds like _you_ need you," remarked his father. There was a rough and uncompromising look on his face when he looked his son in the eyes. "Now tell me, boy, are you going to hide in here while Luan is out there suffering on her own? Or are you going to be a ding dang man and go out there for her?"

Lincoln thought for a moment. But it was only a moment.

The terror in her voice made his decision swift.

* * *

When he finally came to, he found himself falling face first into the ground. Dirt and sand and rocks filled his mouth, and when he propped himself up by with hands and knees, he spat it all out. It took him a moment to remember where he was, as his head jerked and his eyes blinked several times. He thought about his Dad, and whether his talk with his old man had actually happened or not.

Regardless, he whispered a silent prayer. "Thank you, Dad," he said under his breath.

Then he got up and turned his head to Lynn. The crazed boy gave Lincoln his classic Lynn grin. "Glad you've finally woken up," he said to Lincoln, before turning to Luan. "Lookie here, miss, my little sister woke up just like you wanted."

"Lincoln!" she cried with relief.

Lynn turned back to his brother, and looked into his eyes. His smirk faltered for a moment, though. Something about his brother seemed different. Lincoln's mouth was curled into a deep frown, his posture seemed more upright and bold. And his eyes… his eyes seemed harder.

This wasn't the same sniveling Lincoln he had grown up with. The Lincoln that flinched at the sight of danger or girls. The Lincoln that was content to waste his life away inside. The Lincoln that couldn't care less that bad things were happening, just as long as he got away from them. No, he seemed braver and angrier and stronger. In the flickering, colored light of the fire, Lynn could almost see his father in Lincoln's place.

But then he shook his head. He was just imaging things.

"Get in the fire," said Lynn, "or I'll toss you in."

"I'm not going without a fight," Lincoln said in turn.

"Ooh lala, little Linky-girl's put on her grown woman girdle." Lynn pressed his hands to his cheeks in a mocking display of fear. Then he coughed and spat. He spat on the ground right before Lincoln's feet, and the snow haired boy's eyes flashed with rage.

"Don't disrespect me, Lynn. And funny you should call me a girl when you got the girl's name."

"That's our Dad's name, you little shit."

"A name you ain't never been worthy of."

"Seriously, what's gotten into you?" Lynn scratched his head. "It's like you took a little nap with your eyes open and now you're some dime novel hero swinging his dick around."

Lincoln looked at Luan and her sister, still tied to a rope. The girls shivered from both fear and the cold, and Luan was looking back at Lincoln. She could see it too, what Lynn saw. That the cowardly boy she had met a day or so ago had been replaced by someone brimming with confidence. He shot her a caring smile, and Luan found herself blushing. _Seriously, what has gotten into you, Linc?_

He turned back to his brother, smile still on his face. It was much colder though. He then gestured to the fire by jabbing his thumb. "So am I supposed to ask about why that campfire's so big and purple?"

"It's the fire of the gods. That's magic fire. And every time I toss someone in, I get their life," Lynn explained again. He was annoyed that he had to do it twice.

"Right. The gods. Human sacrifice. Gotcha."

"Sounds like you don't believe me."

"Well, I only believe in one god, Lynn, and my God told Abraham that he'd prefer a ram sacrifice over him sacrificing his son Noah. After all, if Noah died, he wouldn't have been able to free the Jews from the Pharaoh."

_Lincoln, you're the stupidest goddamn idiot I've ever met, _thought Lynn.

He then smirked. "So how about a little demonstration?" Lynn said, aiming the gun for his head yet again. Giggles shrieked and turned her head, and Luan looked on with the same morbid curiosity that kept people's eyes on particularly disgusting road accidents. He then thought better of it, though, as he frowned and put the gun away from his skull.

Instead he reached for another of his pistols, and tossed it to Lincoln. "How about a duel?" offered Lynn. "It's a good deal for me. If you somehow shoot my first, which won't happen because you SUCK!… but if you do, I get to prove my immortality. And if I shoot you, well, it'll be two souls for the flames instead of three like I wanted."

Lincoln hesitated, then bent down to grab his gun. "Sounds good to me."

Lynn gave him a moment to load his gun with bullets. They then stepped closer to each other, and Lincoln could smell something emanating from his brother. It wasn't the natural smell of a boy in the desert. It was something darker. Like the cloying smell of a perfumed corpse mingled with the sulfuric smell of a demon straight out of Hades. It wasn't right. Perhaps that's why the horse seemed so jittery. Animals can sense things better than men can. Especially when it comes to the Unseen World.

"There's so many mysteries out in this patch of America," Lincoln said thoughtfully.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, dear brother," Lincoln smiled, though his eyes didn't.

"Lincoln..." Luan said her friend's name in a worried whisper.

The two young men stood opposed to each other. His back touched his. Lincoln could feel his brother's head and his brown hairs tickling at him. Lynn was taller than him. That didn't matter much, but in a death match, Lincoln needed to think about anything besides his possible impending death.

"On the count of three, or count of ten?" Lynn asked.

"Ten. On account of how many bullets I'm going to plant in your brain," Lincoln said, making Lynn burst out into hyena-like laughter.

"Alright, alright," Lynn coughed into his hand, and declared out loud "TEN!"

He and Lincoln both took one step forward.

"NINE!"

They stepped again, and as they did, the words of Lynn Sr., of the legendary hero and the even more legendary father, came back to Lincoln. He had told his son that he couldn't beat his brother with skill, but he could with his wits and trickery. And Lincoln knew exactly what he had to do.

So before Lynn could say the next number, Lincoln spun around and shot him in the back of the head.

"FU-" cried out Lynn as he fell to the ground, his head pooping out his pink brains. A red mist of blood splattering blood fell onto the ground like rain, and Lynn fell with it. His head slammed into the dirt, and he was dead.

"Careful Lincoln! He'll come back to life!" screamed Luan.

Lincoln looked at her with confusion, before he noticed the destroyed lobes carefully crawling back together, like slugs, and putting themselves back into Lynn's head. He let out a loud gasp as he spun and landed on his back, still laying on the ground. "You asshole!" he yelled at Lincoln. "You goddamn cock-sucking piece of shit! Just wait until I get my arms and legs working again. I'll bust your head open with a rock! What kind of a man shoots his enemy while his back is turned?"

"A man wouldn't do that," Lincoln admitted, stepping over to his brother's resurrected body. "But you see, Lynn… I ain't a man. I'll admit that upfront. I'm a coward, a liar, a petty crook, a shame on the family name. You name one of the deadly sins, and I've probably done it and smeared my shit on the barn I did it in. But look at you. You're supposed to be dead, ain't you? But here you are, coming back from the Land of the Dead smelling like rotten eggs. So as far as I'm concerned, Lynn..."

He cocked his gun, aimed it at his brother's forehead, and for the first time in his lives, Lynn's eyes flashed with fear of his brother.

"… you ain't a man either."

He shot him again, and Lynn screamed.

Then he reformed, and Lincoln shot him again.

Then he reformed, managed to yell "Die!" and then got shot again.

And again.

And again.

When Lincoln stopped to reload, Lynn had more time to reform. This time, he didn't try to yell out obscenities, and when his limbs finally started to work again, he didn't reach for his gun. Instead, he got up off the ground, and began to run. Lincoln watched him curiously as he fled, following after slowly. Lynn then fell on the ground, and he turned to see his brother standing over him, gun ready.

"No, Lincoln, please!" he cried pitifully. "This is my last soul. I can feel it. Please, I don't wanna die."

Tears were stinging at the older brother's eyes, and he wiped them away. He didn't look like a crazed killer anymore. Instead, he seemed… sympathetic. He wasn't someone that wanted to kill for the sake of killing. He was someone that was clearly scared to die. He was scared of the Reaper, scared of the void, scared of what was waiting for him. He wanted to live, to eat, to drink, to fight, to love. Lincoln felt sorry for him, and he considered letting him go.

Then the fire roared behind them, and Lincoln remembered something.

"Tell me," he said in a slow, smooth, chilling voice, "was there ever one of your victims who told you they didn't want to die? And if they did… did you ever let them go?"

Lynn whimpered, then said nothing. That was all the answer Lincoln needed.

He pulled the trigger, and Lynn died for the final time.

There was a loud screeching cry that emerged from the fire, so loud that Luan and Giggles had to cover their ears and bow their heads. Lincoln could feel one of his ears bleeding, so he cried out as he turned to look at the fire. He saw souls, people's souls, flying out of the flames and into the sky where a golden gateway in the clouds opened up to accept them, as if they were Puritans and Pilgrims being welcomed by America.

The fire died down, and all color was gone. All that remained of the site was black ash.

Lincoln walked over to the girls and untied them, smiling weakly at both Luan and Giggles. "Lincoln, what was that?" Luan asked. "And what's wrong with your ear?"

"That, Luan, was the sound of a false god dying."

Those were the last words he said before he fell into her arms.

She screamed and checked his heartbeat by placing two fingers on his neck. He was dead. Dead like the fire and dead like Lynn.

"Lincoln, no," she said, clutching his hands and burying her tearful face into his chest. She shook him several times, trying to get the young man to wake up, but she knew she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. The dead don't come back to life, after all.

Luan and Giggles returned to town after a few days. The journey home was hard, and Giggles was barely alive when her father caught her in his hands. Once she was sure her sister was in good care, Luan faintly weakly on a chair. But before she did, she grabbed a man's sleeve next to her and told him:

"Tell them all Snow Hair died. He died twice. Once he died from age. The second he died saving our lives."

* * *

There was a void. A pure white void, with nothing in it save for two wandering souls. They were holding hands, walking together without a single feeling or word exchanged between them. Words and feelings are for the living, after all, and these two were dead.

They had both been here before. One came her once in a dream, and the other came several times.

They found a gate. It was a large gate, shimmering golden in color. Standing before the gate was a Semitic, probably Hebrew, man, wrapped in white robes and with whitish hair that reminded them of their father. He nodded at the two of them, beckoning them to come forth and receive judgment.

Lynn and Lincoln kissed once, then walked towards the man.

* * *

**When I first showed this story to someone, they asked me if I was ripping off Indiana Jones. I admitted I might've been. Probably watched the movie around that time or something. I definitely did take some inspiration from one of my favorite anime _Kore Wa Zombie Desu Ka? _**

**Y'all know I'm basically just ripping everyone off at this point haha**

**Thanks for indulging me while I rewrote something from my past. I plan to upload my next long story in a few days (likely the 11th) and it'll be much longer than this one. Believe me, I know long things. It'll be tremendous. Bigly.**


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